Tainted Love - Drarry

Chapter One

Draco 

I like to think that it all started during the war. When I truly recognized that I had some sort of feeling towards him. A feeling that did not include hatred and loathing. But to arrive at this point, we have to back track a couple of years.To the moment we first met in the robe shop. 

Now at first when I saw the scrawny, raggedy haired boy, I was slightly appalled. How could someone live so...unkept? Uncleaned? As disgusted as I was, he was a bit intriguing, not that I would have admitted that to myself at the time. When I later introduced myself on our first day of first year at  Hogwarts - which did not end well - that was when the seething anger towards Harry Bloody Potter finally fabricated itself inside of my mind. For years I tried to make his life a living hell, just because he didn't shake my hand when he was merely eleven years old. 

"Hello there, Potty Head! Everyone steer clear of this one, his ignorance is contagious!"  

"Oh look, the Weasel, the Mudblood, and  the Orphan Boy! What a sight we have here." 

"Done it again potter eh? Endangered the lives of the whole school because you're a bloody idiot?"

I was ruthless. And it was all just a coverup. After about three years of antagonizing the boy, it became more of a job than for my own personal enjoyment. The envy trickled out as I got older, especially after Voldemort came back. Not to mention, Harry got older to. And that was something that, no matter how hard I tried, I simply could not ignore. 

During the summer going into fifth year, I like to think some angel visited Harry in his sleep and shaped him up into the man that he had so despereately tried to grow into. His hair was no longer a raggedy mess, but more of a cleanly cut mop that suited him quite well. He had gotten taller and buffer as well, his features growing to be more angular. Overall, I was subconsciously very attracted to him. Again, not that I would ever admit that out loud. In fact, I'm pretty sure I was extra brutal towards him our first day back that year. 

"Ah, Potter! Surprised you would even show your face again here after your little 'mishap' during the tournament last year! What a bloody fool-''

"Shut it, Ferret" he had tried to retaliate. His Weasel friend even had to hold him back from lunging towards me. I tried to play it off as nothing, but I simply could not ignore how utterly attractive he looked all fired up. I quickly laughed it off and turned away before I did something that I would regret later on. 

What really sealed the deal was the broomstick ride in seventh year. I don't think I have ever felt so alive and free and content, even though I was literally on the brink of death. I remember when he found me in the fire in the Room of Requirement, and even after all the hell that I had put him through, he still had the kindness in his heart to save my life. I remember hugging my arms around his toned, but skinny waist and the smell of his lemon shampoo that was slightly compromised by ash and dust. In that moment, I truly recognized that I was very much crushing on the one and only Chosen One, as much as I hated to admit it. 

I remember when I saw his seemingly dead body resting in Hagrid's arms after Voldemort invaded the castle. I remember I could feel my insides crumbling, but I was simply unable to show it. I had to keep up my stony demeanor if I wanted to get out of that whole situation with my head still attached to my body. Crossing over to the other side felt like utter betrayal towards Harry, even though I still had barely said one nice word to the poor boy. When he flipped himself out of his coma-like state, pure relief had washed over me, I almost cried, again. But obviously I did not, for that would not have ended well either. 

I remember the walk home with my family, away from the fighting and killing. We were still within close enough distance to hear Voldemort's final cry, and finally his death. None of us said anything, but I could not help the small smile that etched its way onto my face. I remember thinking to myself 'he did it. Harry did it. He saved us, he saved me'. I couldn't help but be proud of him, it truly was an incredible feat.